Charity Work Mag 7 ATF AU
by senorabutterfly
Summary: The boys get more than they bargained for attending one of Mrs. Travis' charity functions.


Charity Work Mag 7 ATF AU

"Remind me again why I'm standing here dressed as a Mexican peasant?" asked Josiah somewhat grumpily as he adjusted the striped wool serape across his broad shoulders for the fifth or sixth time.

White cotton pants covered his lower body, and a matching shirt was open almost to the waist, showing glimpses of well-muscled pecs and abs. Leather sandals graced his feet and a wide-brimmed sombrero hid the salt-and-pepper hair. A bright red sash was wrapped around his waist and held a ten-inch hunting knife at the side. A black cloth half mask covered the upper part of the strong face.

"Because the masquerade party is for Ms. Travis' favorite charity, and she asked if we minded helpin' out." answered Nathan, setting his cavalry hat at the proper angle in front of the full-length mirror in the men's restroom at the hotel banquet hall.

The medic was one of the only members of team Seven who wasn't looking at his costume with a jaundiced eye, Buck being the other.

Jackson was actually rather pleased with his Buffalo Soldier outfit. The blue uniform showcased the tall figure's well-built body and the sword and pistol at his sides looked quite dangerous. Polished boots came almost to his knees and white, gauntleted gloves hung in his belt until time to put them on. A black mask similar to Josiah's covered his upper features.

"Not to mention the Judge told us the whole team had to show up or he'd put us undercover at a strip club or something." added JD with a blush just at the thought.

The electronics tech truthfully didn't mind his clothing that much either. Mrs. Travis had picked the costumes for them, and the theme was loosely the old west. JD would have preferred something a little less 'eastern' looking, but dressing as Bat Masterson wasn't bad either. He patted the twin Colt Lightning pistols at his hips, and then moved the dark bowler hat to a little more rakish position just to annoy Buck.

Wilmington was dressed as Zorro, and the others had to admit that the fitted black pants, loose shirt, and flowing cape suited the rogue quite well. Shiny ebony boots drew attention to the brunet's long legs, and the sword at his side added just the right bit of shine to his outfit. The dark mask and kerchief over his head lent the handsome figure a mysterious air, and the black leather gauntlets showcased the powerful hands as he reached to slap at Dunne's bowler and then settled his own vaquero hat on his head with a smirk of approval.

Ezra on the other hand was hardly thrilled with his ensemble.

"I have never felt more ridiculous in my life." muttered the thick southern accent in disgust.

Emerald eyes took in the riverboat gambler costume he currently sported. Admittedly the charcoal gray pants and red swallow-tail jacket **did** show off his physique quite nicely, as did the snow-white ruffled shirt and black boots with their high shine. The dark domino mask and matching gloves gave the chestnut-haired man an air of mystery and danger, which was enhanced by the ivory-handled revolver that rested at his side.

"Not even when ya dressed up as a lady that time?" teased Tanner as he tied his own mask into place over his upper face.

"I thought we agreed never to mention that embarassin' episode again." chided Standish with a decent imitation of the Larabee glare.

"Nope. You said it, but I never agreed to it." said the sharpshooter with a grin.

He then looked himself over and decided he didn't have any room to talk at the moment.

"I shoulda just handed in my badge." he grumbled in response to JD's comment that the Judge expected the whole team to participate.

Sky blue eyes peered in the mirror in dismay.

Tight buckskin pants with short fringe on the outside seams hugged his legs and hips and beaded moccasins encased his feet. The slender look when fully clothed was somewhat deceptive, since a matching beaded vest showed off broad shoulders and well-muscled biceps. No shirt was included, so an impressive expanse of toned, tanned chest was visible. The long sandy hair was pulled back with a rawhide thong, and a feathered headdress trailed down almost to his waist. A hunting knife rested in a deerskin sheath at his side and beaded armbands drew attention to his well-developed muscles. He'd lived with a couple of tribes in his youth, but even they didn't dress this way except for traditional tribal ceremonies.

Chris flicked a sympathetic glance in Tanner's direction. He felt rather ridiculous himself, though he had to admit Evie Travis had channeled his inner character well.

Hazel eyes took in his own clothing, the ebony hue giving the changeable orbs the icy green coloration that they frequently sported.

Tight-fitting black pants hugged his lower body, showcasing his long, lean quality. An ebony bib-fronted shirt clung to his well-muscled torso, and black cowboy boots with jingling silver spurs encased his feet. A matching silver-trimmed gunbelt encircled his waist with a deadly bone-handled Colt .45 resting in the holster high on his right hip. Ebony leather gloves covered the talented hands that were just settling the flat-crowned hat in place over a black half mask. A long dark duster hung from a hook on the back of the door, giving the impression of a bird of prey as it fluttered in the breeze from the air vent above.

JD tied his own domino mask into place.

"At least we have the masks, so maybe no one will know it's us."

The gambler's green gaze skewered the younger agent.

"There are seven of us, Mr. Wilmington's facial hair is exposed, and Ms. Travis seems to have correctly deduced our inner old west personas. I don't believe the masks and gloves are goin' to fool anybody who already knows us."

The others sighed in resignation at the comment.

Checking to be sure the parts of their costumes were all in place, the seven men headed for the door, Chris shrugging into the long duster as he exited.

"Well, at least all we have to do is mingle for a couple of hours, donate some money, and then leave." soothed Sanchez in a calm voice as they strode toward the ball-room floor.

If the profiler had only known how wrong he was, he might have led the charge to escape right then and there…

"What do you mean we're the entertainment?" hissed Chris as he faced the Judge and his wife a few minutes later. He was trying not to cuss in front of Evie, but was having a hard time at the moment.

The others just looked shell-shocked behind him.

Mrs. Travis gave the handsome blond her sweetest smile.

"Well, folks aren't being as generous as I'd hoped, so I figured having you boys do a little 'entertaining' might loosen their purse strings….especially the women."

An ice green gaze swung to the Judge accusingly. "You didn't mention anything about that, Sir." The unique tones put an emphasis on the title that made it sound more like 'screw you' than 'Sir'.

"Evie just decided, I swear Chris. I had no idea she even had something like this in her mind!"

"Exactly what do you expect us to do to entice those in attendance to part with their lucre?" asked Standish with a note of suspicion in his voice.

"Oh, I thought maybe a little dancing or something…" murmured the older lady vaguely.

Seven pairs of eyes suddenly swung to her in shock.

"Excuse me?" "Say what?" "Huh?" and other surprised exclamations flooded her.

"You expect us to dance with female attendees in return for money like… gigolos?" asked Ezra in disbelief. Not that his mother hadn't had him charm women in the interest of gaining access to some of their funds before, but he certainly hadn't expected the judge's wife to stoop to such tactics.

"Oh, of course not dear! Though I'm sure a turn around the dance floor with one or more of you might make them feel more generous. I was thinking more of you boys being the ones dancing however."

Suspicious gazes skewered her like some of the appetizers being offered around by waiters.

"What kind of dancin'?" Buck asked for all of them. The ladies' man, of course, wasn't as dismayed by the idea as his teammates were.

Chris was getting an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach, the same sort that usually assailed him when his team was about to find themselves in more trouble than they had expected.

"Mmm… well…I was thinking something where you take your shirts off…" murmured Evie with a wink. "Those gorgeous chests of yours should make any woman here feel more inclined to give generously."

"You mean you want us to strip?!" gargled JD almost incoherently.

"Not all the way, dear. Just take your jacket and shirt off… maybe throw your hat into the crowd or something. You know… get everyone going."

"I'm goin' alright… right out the door!" declared Vin with a panicked expression on his face.

Travis put his hand out to stop the sniper. "Now boys…you can keep the masks. And this is to benefit the local children's hospital. Think of the kids that can be helped with the money raised."

It took some doing, but all of the men were suckers for children in need, so eventually they were talked into acceding to Evie's wishes. She moved off to pick songs and pass the word that there would be some 'special' entertainment while the Seven grabbed stiff drinks from passing servers.

There was a little dais at one end of the large room that was normally used for speakers at conventions and so forth. The team gathered at one side of it and bickered over what order they would go in, no one really wanting to be the first. Mrs. Travis finally settled the argument, pointing to each one in turn. JD was chosen to go first. The youngest gulped, and then decided that maybe going at the beginning wasn't a bad thing. At least he could get it over with and then laugh at the rest of the team when their turns came.

Music was keyed up and suddenly it grew quiet out on the floor. The women in attendance gravitated to the stage and formed a solid wall around the edges, eyes peering up in anticipation.

JD tried to remember scenes from movies he'd watched that would help him know how to move. He started slow, but that didn't seem to bother the ladies in the audience. After a few whistles and calls of 'take it off', he picked up the pace and started swinging his hips as he pulled off the bowler and let it fly into the crowd. The women hooted in approval, a young lady about his age grabbing the hat and plopping it on her head with a smile. Encouraged by that response, the brunet pulled off his herringbone jacket and threw it behind him, then followed with the cream-colored shirt. Even the older women were now clapping and doing cat calls, all admiring the young man's bare chest.

By the time the song died away, Dunne was sweating and hyped up. Waving at the whistling women, he smiled and then bounced behind the curtain that covered the back of the dais.

"Wow! That was something else!" he panted as he put his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Buck patted him on the bare shoulder. "Ya done good, Kid. Better hope Casey don't hear about this though."

At those words, a panicked look crossed the younger brunet's face.

"Gee, thanks Buck! She'll kill me!"

Wilmington just grinned and then moved to give Josiah some pointers.

Evie had decided to stagger ages, so the profiler was the next in line. Having been to a few clubs in his younger days, the older man knew what was expected of him. He sailed the sombrero into the sea of faces with panache, then flung off the serape and gave it a toss. The white shirt got pulled off slowly and tantalizingly, then pitched to the back of the stage to hoots and loud clapping. One of the women close to him in age wrote down her phone number and held it up to the well-muscled form with an inviting smile. Leaning down, Josiah took it and the hundred that she offered for the charity, giving her hand a gallant kiss as he did so.

Nathan came next, the impressive figure in the blue uniform causing more cat calls and whistles of appreciation as he moved sexily to the beat. His hat got discarded first, then the jacket and shirt. When he tossed the saber into the crowd of cheering women, a brief skirmish broke out to see who got the prize. The lovely dark-skinned lady who won leaned up to hand the medic a hundred, getting a chaste kiss on the cheek for her generosity to the kids.

When the dashing Zorro figure stepped out on the dais, swiveling his hips to a suggestive Elvis number, the women went wild. The handsome ladies' man was in his element, and he shimmied and swayed with a sex-appeal that couldn't be denied. The tall form leaned down to kiss the women in the front, handing out roses as he did so. Money and phone numbers were handed to him in return, or thrown on stage by those further back. One lady proudly put the black vaquero hat on her own head when it was tossed her direction, and the dark shirt got torn in two by a couple of women who each refused to give up possession of the prize. When the music ended, a lovely Latina tried to climb on the stage to follow the retreating Wilmington, but was stopped by a whispered word from Evie.

Ezra was the next one out. The undercover agent still felt a bit foolish, but had decided when in Rome…

Strutting across the stage when the music started, he bestowed dazzling, gold-toothed smiles on the women at the front. The well-built figure then started bumping and grinding in moves he mentally admitted to getting from Dirty Dancing. The ladies didn't care where he got them from, whistling and clapping furiously and calling out innuendos and invitations as the handsome form threw his riverboat hat into the crowd, and then teasingly divested himself of the scarlet jacket and snowy shirt. When he flicked a deck of cards into the sea of faces, there was a scramble to get the pasteboards. A redhead triumphantly held up the Ace of spades and a check to the gambler. The toned body leaned down and gave her a kiss in appreciation, accepting the donation and the slip of paper with her name and number. When he ran the card down his damp chest and handed it back with a wink, the lady fanned herself with it and mouthed 'call me'.

Vin had been watching all this with trepidation, and now looked ready to make a run for it. Chris caught the sniper's arm and shook his head. One gloved finger pointed to the stage as Standish made his way to the back. Sighing in resignation, the slender figure took up his position as a haunting drum beat started.

The sight of the attractive buckskin-clad form with his already bare chest ratcheted the volume of the cheering women up a notch. Every lady in the room was now crowded around the impromptu show, the men who were in attendance shaking their heads at the enrapt visages of their female companions. Cash was flying onto the stage and Evie was being handed checks and even bank cards as the women swayed in time to Vin's seductive movements. The sniper had given up his mental protest and was now pretending he was undercover as he gyrated his hips and moved his feet in a rhythm he remembered from his time with the Comanche. Feathers flew everywhere when he tossed the headdress to the watching women, and Judge Travis and another man had to move in to break up the squabble when two women got in a tug-of-war over the beaded vest that had sailed their way.

The winner worked her way to the front of the dais and held up the vest and a generous donation. Taking a page from Ezra's book, Vin rubbed the vest down his chest and then handed it back to the lady with a bob of his eyebrows and a wink. She grabbed his arm and pulled him down for a scorching kiss on the lips, then proceeded to use the pen in her hand to write her phone number on his wrist above the deerskin gloves he wore.

When the song ended, the sharpshooter made his escape to the back, Josiah and Nathan having to hold back several women who tried to follow.

Tanner's panting arrival meant that it was now Chris' turn. The dark-garbed gunfighter took a deep breath and then strode to the front as the opening strains of the theme to The Magnificent Seven came on. Spurs jingled as he prowled around the edge of the stage, not even having to dance to cause an uproar. The ebony clothing emphasized the lean form's dangerous and commanding aura and the mask and gloves gave the gorgeous figure a mysterious air that was almost mesmerizing.

When he started grinding his hips to the music, the women pressed forward and sighed and hooted in approval. One leather-covered hand removed the flat-crowned hat and threw it into the sea of women, the lights giving his dark blond hair a halo effect. There was a scramble to see who got possession of the headgear, a willowy blonde coming up with the article.

Gloved hands slid the duster slowly off next. It got tossed to the rear of the dais. Now the drooling females could see the tall figure's whole body and he started a series of pelvic thrusts as he tantalizingly unbuttoned the ebony shirt. The actions nearly caused a riot, the other members of the team and the Judge having to step in to stop a group of cheering women from rushing the stage.

When the shirt was finally free and went sailing into the crowd, a uproar did manifest itself as six or seven women made a dive for the garment. The rest were admiring the bronzed chest and well-muscled biceps of the handsome gunman as he finished his sensuous movements. Money was fluttering to the stage around him like confetti, and almost as many papers with names and phone numbers were being offered. The lady who had gained possession of the hat and the dark-haired woman who ended up with the shirt made their way to the stage as the music died away. Both held up checks for extremely generous amounts to be given to the children's hospital, expectant looks on their faces.

Chris didn't disappoint. Squatting down, careful of the rowels of his spurs, the impressive figure leaned over to present both women with a seductive kiss, gloved hands cupping the neck of each one as he moved between the two. When they both offered their phone numbers, he took them with a wink and devastating smile. Tucking the papers into his gunbelt, he let his leather-garbed fingers trail over the women's cheeks in a feather-light caress, and then rose with cat-like grace to his feet. He made one last circuit at the edge of the stage, long strides seeming almost like the prowl of a black panther as he moved. He would stop occasionally to kneel and accept a donation, again letting his hand slide over the soft skin of the giver's face in a gesture that had several of them almost swooning at his feet.

When he reached the far side, the tall form turned and nodded his thanks for their generosity, then he strode toward the curtain. A cacophony of sound erupted as he walked away, the women clapping vigorously and calling invitations and appreciation of his 'assets' as he exited the stage.

High on adrenaline as if they'd just participated in a bust, and totally bemused at the attention they'd attracted, the seven agents worked their way to the bathroom to change back into their regular clothes.

When the proceeds were counted for the night, the charity function had raised more money than any event ever held in the city before. Evie stopped to thank the team as they prepared to leave. Each had a proliferation of phone numbers, as well as a few lipstick prints on their shirt collars, etc.

"Thank you boys **so** much! This is the most that's ever been raised at one of these events."

"Glad we could help the kids, Miz Travis." answered Vin as he wiped a red lip print off of his cheek with a napkin.

The others nodded vigorously as Chris finished for them.

"But next time, just tell us how much you need and we'll write you a check ourselves!"

By DMA


End file.
